


Expanded Uncertainty

by Arithanas



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, Rough Kissing, Tight Spaces, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-21 06:04:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19997083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: It was a good thing James Wesley was used to dealing with uncertainty.





	Expanded Uncertainty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quin/gifts).



James Wesley checked the screen of his phone for the nineteenth time since he left the restaurant. Running a business was taxing; running a criminal enterprise multiplied the rewards and the factors, but was backbreaking. He was not anxious. Uncertainty was just another factor to take care of in the long string of manageable factors.

Uncertainty, in this case, had a name. A woman’s name, on top of that. James Wesley had investigated this Vanessa Marianna with the same care he did all the other assets belonging to Confederated Global Investments. Cold? Of course, but that was the role he was called to play and he was committed to it.

No red flags were raised, but James Wesley knew human assets were unpredictable. James was used to dealing with quick turns, unexpected setbacks, surprise counteroffers. All of those were par for the course. On the other hand, his employer had little tolerance to those and, for a man with ambitious goals in mind, that woman was a clear danger.

The screen came alive but the communication provided non-urgent, non-actionable information. James turned the screen off and closed his eyes. Love was a perishable raw material; the best return you might get with it depended heavily on how much labor you were willing to invest in it. His employer, as usual, wanted to expedite results. It was such a shame that love was not a ready-to-use commodity.

James felt his own breath leaving his chest, wondering if this time his employer was willing to put the labor in himself or, as was customary, James would do all the small actions that could keep the machine turning until his employer chose to keep the object of his affection or to move to the next shiny commodity.

The air inside the limousine was getting thin. James put his phone inside his jacket and got out to take a breath of fresh air. The air of this awful city was barely worth breathing, but at least there was a slow breeze. James Wesley was not worried. Uncertainty was his bread and butter.

It took his employer an hour more to finish his romantic appointment. James had time to see him come to the limousine. The way Wilson Fisk walked always renewed his spirits. The steps of a man with a purpose can make the world quake.

James opened the door and waited until his employer got comfortable inside the vehicle before climbing inside himself. Francis had turned the knob on the AC and, even with Wilson Fisk bulk inside, the contained space felt chilly. James nodded softly and the vehicle started to roll through the almost empty streets. James hadn’t noticed how late it was. 

“I’m going to make that woman my wife,” Wilson Fisk said, losing his necktie.

Well, that took care of the uncertainty in unequivocal terms. Wilson had found the perfect companion and business could proceed as expected. James Wesley fixed a smile on his face and adjusted his glasses.

“There is nothing for you to say?” Fisk asked, leaning forward toward the place where Wesley was sitting. His voice carried a subtle hint of a menace.

“Congratulations?”

James Wesley smiled at the rising intonation of his own voice. He was not trying to make fun of his employer or his future plans. That question surprised him and he was not used to feeling surprised.

“Very heartwarming,” Fisk almost smiled at that lonely word. “Very encouraging.”

“My mind was distracted,” Wesley was not lying. The announcement removed the uncertainty, but a series of small adjustments started to fall in place within the frame of their carefully laid plans. “What preparation should I have in mind?”

“Don’t worry about minutiae,” Fisk closed his eyes and laid back. His broad shoulders rested against the rich leather of the seats. “I have other things in mind, more pressing than wedding preparations.”

“I hear you,” Wesley took out his phone from his jacket, ready to write memos and send emails.

“Vanessa said something that got my mind running.” Fisk kept his eyes closed and his big hands on his knees. The perfect image of tranquility. “How long have we known each other?”

“Since that joint presentation we did together at ECON3430.” Wesley had trouble suppressing the smile. Those were good times; when Fisk was not being the most amiable partner in the College projects, he was busy being the most excellent leader. “Is that of any relevance?”

“Vanessa and I had the most interesting philosophical conversation.”

James Wesley pulled his trousers a bit, crossed his legs and laid back. If the conversation was really interesting, it was better to get comfortable. Nothing stopped Wilson Fisk when he was in the mood to share. Wesley was acutely aware of his privilege to hear Fisk’s insights.

“Disregarding all the possible moral and religious implications, we contemplated the nature of the sacrifice in art together. The essential message sacrifice transmits and depicts through art.” Fisk talked and extended his fingers over his knees as if he was suppressing the urge to fist his hands. “What a fascinating mind that woman has! She made a complete argument about the transformative nature of sacrifice. Love through labor…”

Those words made Wesley’s hair stand on end. That was a consequential chat, Fisk body posture talked of frustration and anger. 

“Apparently, the topic got your attention.”

“It did something better,” Fisk turned toward Wesley. “It got me thinking. It got her thinking.”

Uncertainty reared its ugly head again. That woman had planted an idea inside his employer’s head. An idea that should have taken roots years ago, if Wilson Fisk wanted it to grow. Wesley couldn’t peer inside his employer's head to know if all those signs of Wesley’s affection were poisoned by that woman’s words. Wesley would give a good deal of money to know what her intentions were when he nudged Wilson Fisk to contemplate the idea of a man loving him.

“Thinking of the meaning behind the labor…” 

Space proved insufficient for Fisk’s efforts of being threatening so Fisk moved to crouch in front of him. Wesley didn’t mind his crouching position, but the fact that Francis rolled up the privacy curtain was the sign of his imminent danger.

“Vanessa wouldn’t believe in my love until I was able to see it in the person who first tends to my needs instead of theirs.” Fisk was moving slowly, hands closing in threatening fist, opening in gentle rest at each of his words. “The one who anticipates each of my desires and fixes all of my mistakes. The one who bends to my will and burns the midnight oil for my sake…”

Wesley gulped because his employer imponent bulk as almost over his. Each of the proofs of Wesley’s quiet love was tossed to his face like insults. His employer only needed those big hands to end his life, if that was his pleasure.

“What  _ is _ the question?” Wesley asked, looking deeply into Wilson Fisk’s eyes. If his hour was at hand, it was better to finish all with his less practiced virtue.

Madness danced inside Wilson Fisk’s eyes. There was anger, there was fury, there was hurt inside those eyes. The fire of that look was all-consuming.

“Do you love me, James?”

“Of course,” James Wesley answered truthfully. Whether Wilson Fisk wanted his affection or not, James loved even the darkest part of that big, intimidating man. “I thought it was obvious.”

“Good,” Wilson Fisk said, closing his big hand behind Wesley’s nape. “Because Vanessa encouraged me to love you back.”

Before James could register his employer’s movements, Wilson Fisk forced a kiss upon him. Maybe ‘force’ was not the right verb, for he had anxiously waited for this caress for years on end, but James Wesley was not ready to label this expanded uncertainty added to his management plan in a more precise manner.

**Author's Note:**

> My gratitude to phnelt whose insights made this fic better than it was in the beginning.


End file.
